Licorice Tea
by kittenkills
Summary: Based off a dream I had, it's my first story. The looking glass is stolen by oyster addicts and a single mother falls through it and meets a very different Hatter. Sorry, don't want to give too much away. Rated M because I am a bad person.
1. The alarm clock

**a/n This is my first story EVER so please review. This is a sort of a prologue so bare with me as I continue to add to the story. I know the title is odd, but it's so hard to come up with a good one.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one. This is just a story and if it offends, please don't sue me, just write me.**

Beeeeep beeeep beeeeep beeeeep beeeeep!

The sound of an alarm clock was startling that morning, as it was every morning. From the opposite end of a long bedroom, a large blanket began to move. And something that resembled the living dead staggered out from underneath.

"I hate this damned thing!" groaned Francis Cross (Frankie to her friends). She reset the alarm and staggered to the bathroom on stiff unsure legs. _Time to prepare for the day. Brush teeth, shower, get dressed, and make breakfast, pancakes today. No, waffles! Then, wake the twins, get them ready, faces washed, teeth brushed. Get them to eat and get dressed. Print report, load back pack, apply make-up, let mom in, and off to school. Another busy morning. _She was relieved, at least, that after school her whole day was free to spend with her small family. She just had to get through the morning. She plugged her iPod into her speakers and got started.

She stepped out of her front door to get the paper, and was startled by her own reflection. _Guess the new neighbors decided to take a break moving their stuff in. I hope they get it out of there soon, it looks so creepy. _She paused from her morning ritual to look at her reflection. Her figure rounder than it had been before the twins, but that was to be expected. Her face was still young-looking, but it had a tired sort of droop to it. She smiled at herself, thought herself silly, for wasting time with this self examination. For a moment she felt like a child again, until she saw the sadness in her smile. She was only 25 years old, and here she was, a single mother of two. She felt so old and worn down with that thought and dragged herself away from the door, and woke her kids.

"Monsters, oh monsters! Does anyone know where I might find some monsters?" she crept into the room like a hag, and her two children, bright eyed and squealing with glee jumped out of their beds and into her arms. "Why hello Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum! How are you on this fine morning?" The girl turned her head to her mother with eyes too clever for her three years. "Mommy-wommy! Can I be Tweedle-dum? Peter likes to be Tweedle-dee!" Frankie laughed, and covered them both in kisses. "Johanna, you and Peter can be whoever you want. If you want, you could even be the Cheshire Cat and Queen of Hearts! Now, darling beasties, its time for breakfast." Peter turned his large dark eyes on his mother and whispered shyly in her ear, "Mommy, is it waffle day?" "it sure is," she smiled.

She watched her children as they ate. The both looked like her, and nothing like Him. They had her olive skin and dark wild hair, not curly, but wavy and straight all at once. Too thick to comb, too thin to curl. They had her deep dark eyes, the color of a good cup of coffee, that gave them the appearance of a sage-like wisdom. They were perfect, and she was content, at least until she looked at the clock. Her mother was late again, which meant she would likely be late to class.

Frankie let a sigh of relief escape her lips as her mother entered her apartment five minutes later to watch that children. She took her classes quite seriously these days, a change from before when life was a big game for her. But now she was a single mother, and there were examples to be made, and if she didn't leave soon, she'd be late.

"Hello darling mother of mine, how nice of you to show up!" Her eyes glittered with mirth as she chuckled under her breath.

Her mother rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. "Really Frankie, maybe I would have come earlier if it was an exercising class, instead of a cooking class. Maybe then you'd meet a man. After all, no man wants to date the Michelin Man's sister."

Frankie ignored her mother's jab about the extra weight she had put on after the twins. It was just the same old thing she always heard; no man will want you if you are too smart or too fat, or too funny, and a life without a man was apparently not worth it.

"You don't even date anymore Francis. I think it's time to face facts, he's never coming back. You need to think of the kids, what will they do with no father?"

Francis steeled her gaze at her mother, and her voice was filled with ice, "My children have a father, but, I don't need a man to raise my kids," she felt bad at her sudden outburst and added as an afterthought, "that's what you're for."

Her mother sighed and looked at her. "I'm sorry Frankie, but I worry about you. Don't you get lonely by yourself? Don't you want someone to take care of you?"

"I can take care of myself ma, and as far as loneliness goes, that's what one-night stands are for."

Oh like any man would want you thunder thighs!"

Frankie laughed. "Don't worry mommy dearest, I find most men enjoy my fantastic assets and my wonderful pair of wits." She cracked a grin, and glanced at the clock. _Oh that's just great. I'm late again._ She thought to herself. She kissed her mother and children goodbye and ran out the door.

In the hall of her building, she paused to make sure she had everything to need, counting off the items one by one in her head; _Hat? Check! Jacket? Check! Backpack? Check! _Now inside the bag; _Knife bag? Check! I Pod? Check! Chef jacket and pants? Check! Report on the many uses of the celery plant? Crap!_

_She threw down her bag and bolted into the apartment to grab the report. It was still on the printer where she left it. She shouted her goodbyes as she ran out the front door. So focused on trying to be on time for her class, her feet got tangled up in her backpack and she tripped over it, and fell down the stairs head first. Her last thoughts before she crashed into the large mirror still left in the hall were to lift her arms and cover her face. Well, that and suing her new neighbor who just left it there._

_She waited to feel the glass tear through her flesh, feel the cold burning of it. She waited to hear the crashing of the glass and the tinkling on the pieces as they fell, but it never came. Instead she was flung to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Her sight faded to black as her head cracked against a tiled floor._


	2. Wonderland!, or Why is my bread so bad?

**A/N: I think I like where this is going. I figure in Wonderland, there would have to be those addicted to emotion teas, and addicts will usually go to outrageous lengths to get another hit, so that's that. Also, Frankie thinks she's dreaming and I think that makes sense, because… well wouldn't you?**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anyone.**

Frankie pushed herself up to her knees and looked around. Everything around was unfamiliar to her. She looked behind her and saw nothing. Not her doors, not stairs, not even a single shard of glass.

_Fantastic, _she thought, _I must have gotten knocked out on my way down, and now I'm dreaming. At least mom was there. She must have head me fall. I'm sure she's calling an ambulance right now as I dream. She'll take care of everything. I might as well enjoy the rest, and explore the dream._ She tried to calm herself down with that thought. Even if she was in a coma, she knew her mother would care for them. The thought gave her strength. She decided not to worry, even as a tear slid down her cheek.

From the shadows, she saw a filthy man; tall, with short cropped hair, and mad wild eyes. He was pale and sweating, feverish. Frankie absently thought of how he looked like so many of the addicts in the real world. She stilled herself in a panic. "Number Six, it looks like she fell through the looking glass. Do you think she could be an oyster?" his voice was posh and oily, with a British accent. Normally she would have enjoyed it, but when combined with the visual, it only made her panic more.

Another man came from the shadows, shorter than the first, but with the same look of desperation about him. He had to be Number Six. "Let's hope so Number Four. " As he reached into his pocket, Frankie looked around and noticed her backpack was still tangled around her feet. She reached down to grab it. Inside she found her knives and pulled out the biggest one as he pulled out a penlight and flashed it near her collar bone.

She felt it touch her, and was shocked by the sensation. It was so cold, at first, but then became gradually warmer until it almost burned with numbness; like an ice cube held to the skin too long. There was a crackling sound, and she expected it to hurt, but the pain never came. Realizing that this was no time to act like a deer caught in headlights, she brandished her knife at the strange men, wondering if her dream-addicts cared more about their next fix, or their lives.

The strange men backed away, and Frankie grabbed her things and ran out the building. Once out, she decided to give herself a good once-over. She was covered in dust and was still wearing the clothes she wore while she was awake, and now she sported an odd green tattoo on the right side of her chest. _That's unusual, _she thought. _Then again, there isn't much about this dream that is normal. This may be the strangest dream I've ever had. I can't wait to see what's next. _

She caught her reflection in a window. Her hair was the color of cherry wood; dark brown with flecks of red dancing about in the light. It was cut short since she never knew what to do with it, just barely reaching her shoulders at its longest. It was, of course all over the place, so she grabbed the trilby hat from her bag, and shook it out. She placed it on her head in a sad attempt at taming her locks. _Eh, I suppose that will have to do. With that taken care of, she turned her attention to her now dirty clothes. Her dark jeans did absolutely nothing to hide the dust, so she set off slapping away at them in an effort to clean them up. Her shirt however appeared no worse for the wear. It was a brown plaid cowboy shirt she had found at a thrift store the year before, and it was her favorite. It fit her a little loosely, so it helped to hide some of her more unwanted curves._

_Satisfied that she still looked alright, she began to explore the city around her. She still thought it was all a dream, after all, how could anyone build a city in the sky? It made no sense. The thoughts kept her calm._

_The temperature outside was dropping and she pulled on her jacket. She wondered briefly if the ambulance she was on was cold and that's why she was so cold here. She went walking exploring what she believed to be the corners of her mind. _

_After what seemed like hours of exploration, Frankie started to feel hungry and a bit tired. She needed a rest. Her purpose changed from that of exploration to that of searching; looking for a place to get a bite to eat and rest was all that was on her mind. She came upon a building with a large LED sign scrolling "Tea House" over and over again. Frankie walked into the building and had a seat at the bar. For the first time since the junkies in the strange building, she saw other people. She looked around there was a small effeminate man with a large mustache asleep at a podium. Behind him, a stock ticker reading the names of many teas: earl grey, orange pekoe, black chai, green, etc. the people around her look as if they belonged in a Dick Tracy comic book. She chuckled to herself at the thought and signaled a waitress for a menu. After browsing through it, she just ordered licorice tea and bread, butter and jam. The thin waitress smiled and told her it would be just a moment._

_True to her word, before Frankie could remove her jacket, the tea and snack were set down in front of her. "'Aven't saw you 'round 'ere before luv." Her Manchester accent tickled Frankie, so grinning; she decided to have a bit of fun with her. "Where is it you haven't seen me? Over here? Or perhaps over there?" the waitress laughed and smiled, "I think I like you miss, you're aright." Frankie picked her hat up from the counter and plopped it down on her head, winking as she did so. "I'm Daisy, let me know if ye need anything luv. I think 'Atter'd get a kick outta you." Frankie had no idea what she was talking about, but she was always game to play along. "He'll get a slap too if he's not careful." The last comment sent Daisy off, back to work in hysterics._

_Frankie settled into her meal with a flourish. The tea was amazing, the rest was awful. The bread was stale and tough, the butter was also stale and had a slight taste reminiscent of fish, oh and the jam, the jam was little more than watered down, overly sweetened slop. She shrugged and ate it anyway; she hated to waste food._

_When she finished, she motioned for the bill, but daisy was busy. A large dark man with curly hair and a pronounced nose came instead. She told him what she wanted, and what she ordered, and pulled out her wallet. "That will be 17 gold pieces please," he said in a bored voice. Frankie laughed and handed him a $20 bill. The man looked anything but amused. "Is this a joke? What kind of rubbish is this?" Frankie couldn't help herself; it was, after all, such an odd dream. She laughed at him and making fun of his accent, she asked what kind of rubbish the food they served was made of. The man fumed and grabbed her by the arm with one hand and her things with the other. He dragged her to a door in the back if the building marked "MANAGER". He knocked and she heard a man call from within, "Enter."_

_**Enter Hatter next chapter. I promise. can you guys guess who the large man is? I found it funny. Anyway, thanks for reading. please review.**_


	3. Oh you've got to be kidding me

**A/N I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far, but please keep in mind that Hatter has changed a little. In my mind, he's kind of an ass, but then again, aren't we all? I know I am.**

**Disclaimer: I know I keep saying I don't own anyone, but I realize now, that isn't true. I have two dogs. I own them. That's about it.**

As Frankie entered the room, she looked around, and thought to herself that it looked more like the empty lot she played ball as a kid, with furniture strewn about, than an office. So distracted she was, that she didn't notice the man in the room until he spoke. "What do ya want Dodo? I'm busy." He was a handsome man, a bit pretty for her tastes, but she had a feeling underneath it all, he was one of those rare breeds of man that could hold his own. His face was unshaven, and his dark hair was almost as wild as her own. His eyes were dark pools of liquid one could drown in, and he was slight of frame, his clothing giving a hint of the wiry muscle that lay beneath.

Dodo opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, Frankie spoke first. "This Dodo, as you call him, is upset because I don't like the food here. I tried explaining to him that only old goats, such as him, eat cardboard and sludge." the man cocked his head to the side and smirked. He stared at her curiously. "Dodo, who is this woman?"

Frankie was nervous under his scrutiny, so she did what she always did, and tried to make light of the situation. "There are two muffins in an oven. One muffin turns to the other muffin and says, 'Man! It's hot in here!' the other muffin shouts 'Holy shit! A talking muffin!'" Hatter laughed at her little joke, and Frankie felt comforted, more at ease. Dodo scoffed and said in a high arrogant voice, "She was a customer Hatter. She tried to pay with paper money. Remove your jacket girl!" Obediently, but begrudgingly she removed it. The man called Hatter rose from his seat, he couldn't have been shorter than 5'10, but his slight frame and his pretty face made him seem so small compared to her. He grabbed a magnifying glass and strode to her. He notices a hint of green on her collarbone and moved her shirt aside to get a better look at it, his face taking on a more serious and dangerous look. "Don't you have work to do, Dodo?"

"You're an oyster," he said when they were alone. "You're a toaster," she deadpanned in reply. He chuckled under his breath. "Pretty funny for an oyster luv." "You wear a lot of clothes for a moderately handsome man in one of my dreams, but I find nitpicking to be so dull and useless in this day and age." he came closer, invading her space. "Is that what you think this is one of your dreams? A fantasy land you just made up?" Frankie didn't like his tone. He seemed a bit hostile, and she laughed nervously. What else could it be? Either I'm dreaming after the fall, or I've gone crazy." He almost felt sorry for her.

"What's the last thing you remember before coming here?" "I was leaving the house. I was in a hurry, and I tripped and fell down the stairs. I think I crashed into a mirror, but I don't remember the impact. I must have been knocked out before I hit. I figure right about now I'm lying in a hospital getting stitched up." "A mirror eh? Where're you from, luv? What's your name?" She thought it a strange thing for her subconscious to ask her. "Frankie, I'm from Chicago. Why?" He didn't answer he question, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. "What did this mirror look like? Do you remember?" She thought back to the morning, thought back to getting the paper. "It was a large gold framed guilded thing. Maybe eight by ten feet give or take. Why do you keep asking silly questions?" "You have a strange name for a girl where you're from." "Oh yes, because a name like 'Hatter' is so much better. Answer my question. What is going on here?" he hung his head for a moment, and sighed uncomfortably. He picked it up, and looked her in the eye. _Who was this oyster, and why is she here? _"Welcome to wonderland Frankie.'

Frankie laughed hysterically, "wonderland? That's great! I should have guessed. Hatter! Tea shop! Hahahahaha! I was reading that last night! No wonder this dream is so strange." his face fell. He though she had understood. He reached out toward her and pinched her arm as hard as he could. Her laughter stopped, her face suddenly serious." you aren't supposed to feel pain in dreams." she said it in a low whisper, just barely audible. "It's not a dream, luv." Her jaw clenched. "How do I get back?" her tone was so even and serious, more than he thought her capable of. He once again, almost pitied her.

"I suppose they had to move the looking glass. I've heard through the grapevine that the oyster heads have been trying to get their fix. I can see about arranging transport for you to get back home, but it will take a while, and it will cost you." she didn't know what an oyster head was, but she figured it had something to do with the two men she had encountered. She didn't care what it cost her; she just had to get back home. She stared at Hatter for a moment, thoughtful before she spoke. "I was serious about your food you know. I cook for a living. Now I figure money here is useless, but whatever kind of profit you get off this place could be increased it the food was better. You'd get more customers, staying longer and ordering more. I could teach that cook of yours a thing or two about how to improve the menu; I'd work here for free until you could arrange for me to return home. I'll need a place to stay though."

Hatter considered her offer. The woman seemed desperate, so he wondered what else he could get from her. "The cooking will cover your room and board, as well as the bill for your meal tonight. It isn't enough by itself. What else do you have to offer? Dimensional travel is very expensive."

Frankie's eyes went dark. This man, this 'Hatter,' she could already tell what kind of man he was. He was a man made of blood and steel, a man who cared only for himself. He'd drive a hard bargain. "You can have my wedding ring, but only when I'm on my way home." Her answer surprised him. She stared at him with a face cold and impassive. "It means nothing to me anymore. It's yours so long as I get home."

Her callousness angered Hatter, and for a moment he saw red. "You're all alike aren't you? It's just so easy for you oysters to cast a man's love aside. Oh I'll help you alright, but only so afterwards, I never have to see you again." His words stung her to the core, but outwardly she remained stoic. How dare he? This man knew nothing about her.

"I need to know where the kitchen is, and where I'll be sleeping." He looked at her disdainfully, and pointed to a door. "The kitchen is through there, and the bedroom is about the pantry. The cook will show you the way." "I'll comprise a list of what I'm going to need, and draw up a menu. I need you to take me to the market tomorrow as soon as it opens so we can buy the best produce, and not a minute later. Is that alright with you?" He nodded his assent as he returned to his seat without looking at her. "The market opens at 5:00 a.m. sharp. Be ready to leave at 4:30." _What kind of cold hearted woman had fate flung down on my doorstep again? _He wondered to himself, _I really don't like her._ She assured him she'd be ready and left him to himself.

She found the kitchen quickly and introduced herself to the cook. He was an old man with a kind pleasant face, and the most impressive facial hair in terms of style that Frankie had ever seen. He introduced himself as Charlie. Charlie and Frankie put their heads together and got down to business. Frankie thought that since everyone she had encountered in this strange land spoke with what she had thought were British accents, she may as well devise a menu of traditional British cuisine. She laughed to find that Charlie had never heard of shepherd's pie before, and was horrified when he thought there were actual shepherds in it. After about an hour or so, they had put together a good sized menu, and she set about to see what needed to be thrown away, and what needed to be purchased. It was late by the time she finished, and she asked the old man to show her to her room. Ever the gentleman, Charlie showed her the way.

Too tired for small talk, she asked him if she was the only person staying there. "Oh no dear girl, Hatter has his rooms down the hall, and the small fellow, Dormie, he usually sleeps downstairs in the main area. Poor fellow is always so tired. You'll be just fine. Don't worry about a thing. Now the bathroom is down the hall, and there's a wash basin on the nightstand. I'm looking forward to tomorrow dear girl. Enjoy your night!" Frankie smiled at the old man's kindness and thought back to the proprietor. _I really don't like him._ "Thank you so much Charlie, I thin I'll be going to bed now. I've got a busy day tomorrow if I ever want to get home again." It was decided early on that only Charlie, Dodo, and Hatter would know the truth about where she was from. The Oyster addicts still came into the shop from time to time hoping Hatter was still in the smuggling business. He threw them out every time, but the never stopped coming back. The old man and the young woman wished each other a good night and parted ways.

She entered the room and looked around. It was sparsely decorated, consisting of only a bed, nightstand, and a washbasin. Too tired to bother getting dressed, she removed her clothes, and slept in her underclothes. She was asleep before her head touched the pillow.

**Alright, that's that kiddies. You have met the Hatter from my dreams. He's bitter and its hot. (Kind of like licorice tea doncha think? Bitter and sweet all at once, best when served hot.) Please review. It means a lot to me. I thought this Chapter would be longer, but everything is longer in a notebook. Have fun, more tomorrow.**


	4. A difficult first day, or Drunk at last!

**A/N: A special thanks goes out to my only reviewer. You know who you are, as there is only one of you. It's because of you, lone reviewer, that I have continued to post this story. My confidence in my writing skill really is that low. Sad, no? That being said, I am going to try to make this chapter a longer one, as I just plan on merging chapters four and five. I'm always disappointed to note just how short they seem after I type them out. Short chapters are the devil when you wait, and as I'm already up to what would have been chapter six, I figure why wait? **

**Disclaimer: I still only own dogs, and you can't have them.**

Frankie woke with a start to the sound of her cell phone alarm. She had set it last night, and was now officially awake before the sun. She dragged herself out of bed and pulled her pants on, and stared out the window, deep in thought. _Mom and the kids are probably in a panic right now. I wonder if they've called the police yet._ She thought about how her children would have to grow up without her, and thought of everything she'd miss. She really was no better than Him. She refused to think his name, the wound nothing more than fresh skin over an old blister. Visions of their first day of school, first dances, first heartbreaks and first loves plagued her mind. A single tear fell down her cheek, almost whispering; "I'm all you have left, you cried all my brothers away." She stared out the window, and looked toward the east. The sun wasn't up yet, but she could see the hint of it on the horizon now. That heartbreakingly beautiful deep purple that few others ever get to see. It reminded her of home, and she felt her soul screaming. At that moment, she felt as if she and the sun shared a little secret. Only he could understand her struggle to get back to where she belonged. She was so caught up in her thought that she never heard the door open.

Hatter opened the door, sure that the woman would still be asleep, and he'd have to wake her. He saw her standing at the window peering out into the darkness. She was mesmerized by it, standing perfectly still like a statue. Her stillness made him uncomfortable in his skin. He took the opportunity to study her while her mouth was shut. She stood at about 5'7 inches, and was by no means petite. She had broad shoulders for a woman, and her hips were wide in a not entirely unattractive way. She had what was commonly referred to as an hourglass figure, and her hair seemed to be in a constant state of disarray. He stared at her back being able to trace long muscles through her shirt. No, not her shirt. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he noticed he could see her bra. What he thought was a shirt was actually a large intricate tattoo covering the whole of her back. "Oh god, I'm sorry! I came to wake you. I didn't realize you were topless." She visibly tensed. "What's wrong with you?" she demanded heatedly without turning. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to knock? Get out!" That being said, she reached behind her and grabbed the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around herself. Hatter was furious with himself, and very embarrassed to have caught her in such an intimate moment. His face flushed, and he left the room shutting the door behind him without saying a word. She could see the embarrassment in his face, and felt as if she'd yelled at one of her children. She threw on her shirt, and went after him.

"Hatter, wait! Look, I'm sorry for yelling, I was just startled. I wasn't expecting you to just walk in. Look, no hard feelings alright?" She could see his face visibly soften as he nodded his assent. "You were right," he said sheepishly. "I should have knocked." He was silent for a moment and Frankie wondered if she should walk away. "What's the tattoo on your back? It's so large I thought it was a shirt." She flinched inwardly and sighed. She had hoped foolishly that he hadn't been able to see it in the dark. "It's a painting by an artist named Gustav Klimt. Its call 'The Kiss'. It depicts two people in a lover's embrace framed by a world of varying shades of gold, red, black, and white." Her voice sounded distant and took on a haunting melody of sadness and bitterness. Her features appeared to be carved from stone. "My husband and I, we got matching tattoos when we were first married, they cost us a fortune, and it hurt like hell. We were such fools then; we thought love could last forever." "What happened to him?" He couldn't stop himself from asking, and she snapped out of her trancelike state. She smiled at him sadly. "He did the one thing he promised me he'd never do," she laughed sardonically. "He left."

Frankie walked away from the man, and put on her jacket and hat. "Let's go, we don't want to be late." With that unexpected glimpse into Frankie's soul, he deeply regretted his words from the night before. He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. "I'm sorry" he said, and he pulled her into a tight hug.

Frankie was thankful that he couldn't see her face as the fragile mask slipped and she closed her eyes. Pain and gratitude washed over her face, and in an instant, the mask had returned, she took a deep breath inhaling the scent of the man. "Come on now sugar-britches, if that's what you're after, it'll take more than a ride home. You have to at least buy me dinner first." He laughed openly at her jab, completely unaware at how much she regretted her words. _He smelled like the rain._

The unlikely pair grabbed some baskets for what couldn't be delivered and made their way to the market in relative silence. Her thoughts revolved around getting home, and what she had revealed of herself. His thought revolved around what he had learned of her. There was no denying that she was unusual.

As soon as they got to the market, Frankie pulled him aside. "I know next to nothing about your currency. I need you to signal me if the price is good or bad. Tip your hat to the right if it's good, and to the left if it's bad." He thought she would just point out what she needed and he'd take care of it, but it seemed she wanted a more active roll in the shopping. Together they approached a vendor. He watched her as she scrutinized the produce laid out before her. After a brief inspection, and waiting for the man to finish gossiping with a neighbor, they approached to ask his prices.

"Can I 'elp you?" Frankie gave Hatter a conspiratorial wink and spoke first; "'ow much for thirty kilo of potatoes, and fifteen kilos each of carrots, celery, onion and those peas over there?" the question was posed in a wonderland accent similar to that of the vendor. Hatter could barely disguise his curiosity. He wondered just what she was up to. "79 gold and 34 silver, lit'le lady." Hatter promptly tipped his hat to the right. The price was fair enough. Frankie cocked her eyebrow at the man, and looked at him up and down, obviously analyzing him. "Tell you wot sweetheart, I'll give you 65 gold and 24 silver, and ye got yourself a deal." The vendor and Hatter looked at her as if she were joking. "65/24? Ye must be joking or out of yer mind to think I'd accept such a thing!" Frankie's face took on a predatory sheen. "See here's the nub of it luv, my usual vendor don't get in 'til about seven a.m. and normally I'd wait for him, seein' as he normally charges me 60, on account of we've been buying frum him fer so long, but today I find meself in the precarious position of havin' to fire one of my cooks fer stealin'. Now it'll take me a right bit of time, to make up for the work he won't be doing, and I really don't want to have to wait for supplies. Normally I wouldn't dream of buying from someone else, but this ain't the first time his hours have put me in a pickle. Now, if you will give to me the price I asked fer, I'll come back to you for all my produce needs forever. I'm quite willing to pay abit more fer convenience sake. If ye won't give me the price, I'll go away, and you will miss out on 65/24 every week fer the rest of yer life. Up to you either way luv. Either way, I walk away happy." Hatter was impressed. Just who was this woman, and where did she learn to haggle?

The vendor thought over her offer once again, and with much ado, he spat in his hand and extended it for a shake. Hatter was surprised to see the woman do the same with only enthusiasm, and none of the disgust he would have expected. Every vendor they encountered that had something worth buying was told the same lie, and it worked nearly every time. After a long morning of shopping, and many heave baskets to carry, they started back towards the shop. "Why the accent?" Hatter asked curiously. Frankie looked at him with amusement. "I've notice that people tend to trust those from the same place as them. They become less likely to question what they should recognize as a lie. It's almost as if only strangers and good friends can hurt you; neighbors are trusted instead." He gave her a sideways glance and wondered what else she had up her sleeve.

When they had returned to the shop, it wasn't opening time, so Hatter asked Frankie if he could sample the new menu. Charlie had come in to help with the prep work, so she agreed. She whipped up some fish and chips, shepherds pie, roast borogrove (which resembled lamb in texture and taste), and Yorkshire pudding. She also managed to bake a few dozen strawberry tarts for the customers. Hatter was pleased with the food, and tickled by the unusual names for it, and left Charlie and Frankie to cook.

When the shop had opened, Charlie and Frankie were bombarded with orders, and with Charlie's help, Frankie was confident that the first night would go off completely without a hitch. She was the happiest now that she had ever been in Wonderland. She was completely in her element. She was comfortable, and at home with food, and it had always been that way. She hadn't noticed that she began to sing, but Charlie didn't mind, he knew all too well that food and music were cut from the same cloth. Both were gateways to emotion and excitement.

The customers seated at tables near the kitchen noticed the singing however. They quieted down first to hear it, and hurried whispers soon stretched around the shop, shushing people as everyone strained to hear. The voice itself wasn't particularly good per se, a bit above average really, but the emotions behind the voice were another thing entirely. It was a voice that made you want to sob and smile all at once. It struck them all down to their very core. Dodo didn't know what to do; it seemed everyone was in a trance thanks to this singing. He ran to fetch Hatter.

Hatter and Dodo crept out of the office, afraid to make too much noise, curious to see where the singing came from. The first song was over by now, and it seemed a second one was beginning. There was no music to the song, only words. Haunting words.

"Once there came a storm in the form of a girl. It blew to pieces my snug little world. Sometimes I sear I can still hear it howl, down through the wreckage and the ruin. And it ain't gonna rain anymore, now my baby's gone. And it ain't gonna rain anymore, now my baby has gone. Now the storm has passed over me. I'm left to drift on a dead calm sea, and watch her forever through the cracks in the beams nailed across the doors of the bedrooms of my dreams"

"Frankie," shouted Hatter. "What the hell are you doing?" The woman was startled and she jumped. Her eyes wide with surprise. "I'm chopping onions. What are you doing shouting when someone's holding a knife? I could have cut myself! What's wrong with you?" "You were singing, had every one of my customers in a trance! What's wrong with you, and what is that song?" Frankie's face went red with embarrassment over being overheard, and her temper flared at his tone. "It's just a song," she shouted angrily. "Get out of my face!" Hatter was a bit taken aback at her attitude. "Look, you don't yell at me in my shop! Get out of the kitchen and go upstairs! I'll see you when I close up." She stood up quickly, and stormed out of the kitchen, and up to her room feeling oddly like a child who had been caught smoking and subsequently grounded.

She was still pacing when Hatter had closed up. He counted the money three times to avoid having to speak to her, hoping she'd wear herself out, before he had done. An hour had passed since closing time and he could still hear her heavy footfalls. Absently, he thought of a caged tiger. He cursed to himself, and started up the stairs. The ten feet from the top of the stairwell to her room were the longest ten feet of his life. He knocked on her door, and the pacing stopped. The door was yanked open so hard he though it'd tear out the hinges. "You son of a bitch. How dare you humiliate me in front of everyone?" Frankie's words were dripping with venom. She stalked over to him and smacked him across the face. Hatter was stunned. He thought it would be bad but he never imagined this. "I hate it here! I hate this goddamned place and most of all I hate you! Fuck you!" She threw a tantrum like a child, jumping up and down, eyes shut and fists clenched; and before Hatter could respond, she collapsed to the floor exhausted and sobbed uncontrollably.

Hatter didn't know what to do. He was never really that great in situations like these. "Hush luv, hush. I'm sorry I yelled at you." Gasping for air in between cries, she looked up at him. "What the fuck are you talking about little man? I need to get home. I could care less about you yelling. I need to get home. I need to see my kids." He never knew she had kids. She had never mentioned it to him. "Why didn't you tell me you had children?" the question was out in an instant. "My life is none of your business." Her words were ice, and her eyes, daggers. Hatter sat on the floor next to her, and took her in his arms. He held her close, and after a minute or so, she stopped struggling against him, and sank into his embrace. She wept on his shoulder for the better part of an hour, and never once did he move or complain. "I haven't cried in three years," she whispered. "It's alright luv. I know what might help." He rubbed her back and tipped up her chin. "It's called gin." Frankie smiled weakly, her sorrow spent, wiped her eyes and stood, helping Hatter to his feet. "I'm sorry I smacked you." She blushed scarlet, and her hand still stung. She knew it had hurt him, and thought it may even leave a mark, but Hatter merely shrugged and said "Didn't feel a thing doll."

Together, arm in arm, the wandered down the corridor to Hatters room, found the bottle of gin, and began to drink. Frankie was surprised to find, that Hatter had never had a gin & tonic before. "I credit this drink and this drink alone for the existence of my twins," she smiled smugly. Hatter was curious about her children, how old they were, their names, what they were like. She spoke of them only with a mother's love; something found so rarely in Wonderland. Most people there were too tired, or busy for their children; but Hatter could tell she delighted in them, and was wrecked internally from being away from them for so long. They talked all night, talked until the sun came up, and they both passed out, drunk, exhausted, and comforted in his bed. **[With all their clothes on I might add.] **Together, they dreamt the dreams madmen dread.

**[That's that then children. I've had a very busy weekend with the family, so I haven't been able to post, upload or hell even write all weekend long… until now that is. Daylight savings time is here. Hello sunshine! Hope you enjoyed the story thus far. Look forward to the next one. Here's a hint of what it'll entail. DREAM SEQUENCE! Why? You may wonder… because you can't stop me is my reply. Almost forgot, the tune is called "Ain't Gonna Rain Anymore" Its from Nick Cave & the Bad Seed's 1994 album "Let Love In". Its a very good song, and an excellent album. I HIGHLY suggest you check it out.**


	5. Dream Sequence or Too sick to name it

**So the dream chapter has come. Are you excited? I know I am! Yeah, not really. These things make me nervous. I haven't dreamt in a few days, I've forgotten what its like. Anyway, look! I have new reviewers! I guess calling you out totally worked a little. Hot sauce I say. Hot sauce! Oh, and to the one of you who's name I apparently stole, dude, stealing candy from babies is pretty hard core. Today I stole a bite of my baby's grilled cheese sammich. Totally worth it! Also, review! **

**I own dogs and an extensive collection of chef's knives. That's it. **

She woke lying next to him. "_He looks so peaceful in his sleep," _she thought absently. She brushed a stray hair from his face. He caught up her hands and held them tightly, lacing his fingers thought hers. His hands were cool and calloused. She thought they would have been soft and warm, and she was pleasantly surprised to find otherwise. He lifted his hand to her face, and cupped her cheek as he kissed her slowly, and passionately. "I love you," he whispered to her. She studied him for a while as his hand caressed her face. He was beautiful. Six feet, six inches of man, all her own. She twirled her fingers around his short soft curls. He was beautiful in that roman way, with a long aquiline nose that had been broken too many times to count and a wide generous mouth, and when she looked into his dark green eyes, she felt lost in a forest on a warm summer's night. He wore a perpetual five o'clock shadow, his dark hair always showing through his pale skin, even just after shaving. "I love you Jimmy."

"You know Francis, you're gonna marry me someday." She looked at the cocky young man from the club. "Is that so Jimmy Cross? What makes you think I'd want to marry one of my father's goon's?" She smiled teasingly at him as he twirled her around the dance floor. He moved well for a man his size. He was tall, almost too tall, but he had the grace of a large jungle cat. "You will, you're going to be my little housewife. Think about it babe, you, me and a couple of kids. We could have some dogs too, and a nice big house with a big yard for the kids to play in." What do you say? He bent down on one knee and presented her with a beautiful ring. It was an old fashioned silver filigree ring with a small square emerald in the middle, surrounded by tiny sparkling diamonds. "I know the stone is a bit small, but Nicky says he can put in a bigger one if ya want." his face flushed, and for a moment he looked as if he thought she'd say anything but yes. She recognized the ring; it had been his mother's. It meant the world to Frankie that he would give it to her. "Oh Jimmy, its perfect! I wouldn't change it for the world." she threw her arms around him, and kissed him with all the love in her heart. They were so happy they couldn't hear the crowd's applause. "Sing our song baby." And she did.

"I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride." the wedding bells sounded and Jimmy looked into her eyes. They sparkled like diamonds. He dipped her and planted a kiss on her lips, soft and sweet." The wedding guest stood and cheered, so happy for the young couple. There was an old man in the rafters of the church crying, but all they could see was each other. They turned to take pictures, and faced a swirling white mist.

"Happy anniversary doll." They were leaving the Italian place and headed east towards the lake. It was a warm summer night, and Frankie had to remove her heels as they sank into the sand. She was a vision of loveliness in her little blue dress. He loved her in blue, so she had bought it for just this occasion. He took off his suit jacket and lay it down on the sand. He sat on it, reached up, and grabbed her hand. "Sit with me babe," he begged her. "Please?" She looked down wickedly at him, "something tells me you'd have me do more than just sit." He smirked and yanked her down to him, and she fell heavily into his arms, making him fall back. He held her tightly and kissed her passionately, his tongue running over her own. She moaned into his mouth, reveling at the taste of him.

"I want you James, I need you." It always made him growl when she spoke to him like that. His hands, cool and rough traced up her dress absently. He leaned down into the nape of her neck planting soft kisses along her collarbone. She arched her back and squirmed against him, impatient and needy. His hand reached the thin fabric of her panties, and he smirked at the ever present wetness. He loved the way her body responded to him. He wanted to learn every little thing that made her squirm, pant, and moan. She was like some sort of sexual enigma, and he was fascinated by her. He ripped her panties off her. She gasped at the pain of the fabric cutting into her soft skin, and loved how it mixed with the pleasure he caused. "Oh you dirty catholic girls," he smirked. He settled himself between her thighs and kissed her, nibbling and sucking at her lower lip.

She reached up to him and grabbed fistfuls of his black curls. He stared into her eyes and ran his hand down her neck, caressing and stopping at her breast, he ran him thumb across her nipple. She pulled his hair harder now. "I can't stand it when you tease," she whispered softly. The fingers of his other hand slipped into her while she was distracted. Her body tensed, and she hissed with pleasure. He pulled his hand away, and looked at the way they glistened in the moonlight. He brought them to his lips and licked her off of them. He closed his eyes as he enjoyed the complexity of her taste. _He looks like an angel…_ She had to laugh; her man was certainly no angel. She watched him, transfixed by his movements. With one swift motion, he entered her fully. There was no warning, and the sensation brought tears to her eyes. She could feel him throbbing inside her; she could see the light sheen of sweat on his brow. He lowered his head to her and locked eyes, his own green boring into her brown ones. Nothing else in the world existed for them, they were all alone in the universe, and they wouldn't have it any other way. She could feel her body temperature rising, the heat spreading throughout her. "Kiss me James." He grabbed the back of her head and kissed her. He leaned back, and lightly pinched her hardened nipples. She was nearly there, and so was he. She murmured his name as the sensation spread.

She knelt over the toilet and vomited again. "You've been sick for a while huh babe?" Frankie nodded, not trusting herself to speak just yet. "I know what will make you feel better, pee on that will ya?" he told her. He tossed a small white bag at her. She opened it and found a pregnancy test. She was shocked; she had never considered that she might be pregnant. She took the test, but after five minutes, she couldn't muster up the courage to look. In the end she called him over to look for her. "A plus sign means a baby, a minus means food poisoning." she prayed for food poisoning. Jimmy laughed at her and ruffled her hair like she was a child. He had a far away look in his eye. "Looks like we're gonna have to go shopping babe." She cursed under her breath. James looked at her, "What's wrong babe?" Frankie couldn't stop the tears from coming. "I'm scared." "Don't be. I won't let anything bad happen."

"Congratulations, you two lovebirds are having twins!" Frankie turned to the ultrasound tech, her eyes wide with panic. She looked to Jimmy for reassurance, and he was grinning from ear to ear. She turned to the side to hide the tears in her eyes and say the old man weeping, as he walk past the door. "I love you babe. We'll be together forever." She looked at him again. "I'll never leave you." "Promise?" "I promise babe." He kissed her forehead and ruffled her hair.

Seven months pregnant, Frankie walks through the grocery store. Walking down the aisle, she saw the old man again. This time she approached him. "Who are you? I keep seeing you over and over again." The old man scoffed, "You don't recognize your own husband?" Frankie stared at the man like he was crazy. She turned to walk away from him, shaking her head. "You aren't Jimmy." The old man narrowed his eyes at her. "I coulda been Jimmy if it weren't for you." Frankie turned again to face the old man. She was quite upset by this point. "Who the hell are you?" the old man wordlessly transformed before her eyes, becoming younger and younger until he really was her Jimmy standing there with her. "Marrying you killed me. It's all you're fault." Frankie shook her head with tears in her eyes. "I was outta the game. The only reason I went back was to support you!"

The darkness took over now. It surrounded her. She hadn't been there, but she knew how it all went down. She could see Jimmy meeting up with Vic, one of Sal's middle management. Vic handed Jimmy a gun and a slip of paper. "You probably won't need this but it's nice to be prepared eh? This guy, he owes Sal $300,000. Went sour on the races. He needs to understand that his debt must be collected. Just scare him" Jimmy just nodded.

The darkness came again. She could see Jimmy walking up a staircase in a dark alley with his gun drawn. "No Jimmy, don't do it." He couldn't hear her. She wasn't really there. That didn't stop her screams. It didn't stop her from calling out to him. "Please Jimmy, don't! Just come back home. Turn around and get out of there Jimmy!" The gunshots rang out through the stillness in the night. Frankie bolted up the stairs after him, she couldn't cry. She felt numb inside. She found him laying face down in a pool of his own blood. He was gone, and she was alone.

The sound of the doorbell woke her. When she opened it, the police were there. She knew something terrible had happened, but they wouldn't tell her. They brought her in for questioning. They held her overnight, always asking, always prying.

The doctors told her the stress brought on the early labor. They told her she was lucky to be alive. She didn't feel lucky. They said her babies, Jimmy's babies, probably wouldn't survive the week. She wanted to die. She demanded to see them, but the doctors said no. She screamed and thrashed against them, and they had to sedate her.

"Hey baby doll, how ya feelin'? The doctors say the babies are doing better than they thought, say we can take 'em home in a few days when you get out. You know you can stay with your ma and me right?" Frankie's head rolled listlessly to the side. "Daddy? Jimmy's dead. The police say he was shot by a man who owed you money. They said it was self defense. They say you had Jimmy there working. I told them that was impossible. I told them Jimmy was out of it all. He was a plumber." Sal couldn't look at her. "He told me he needed the money. Said he could handle putting one kid through college, but not two. I thought I was doing him a favor." "Get out Sal." The old man winced, and left.

She could see Johanna and Peter, the day before she learned wonderland existed outside of a book. They were at the park together, playing on the slide. "Come on kids, it's time to go home." They ran to her, their little faces flushed from the fun. Peter tugged at Frankie's pants leg, "mommy, why don't we have a daddy? All our friends have a mommy and a daddy."

Her Children flashed before her eyes, all grown up now, but still hers. She'd know them anywhere. She ran to them, calling out, but they ignored her. Their mother abandoned them years ago. They'd never know her again.

It all flashed before her, past, present, and future combined in a swirling mist of grey fog. All of her hurt, anger, secret guilt that haunted her, and loss on display. The words "He died. He left. I fell. I left" Ran through her head like a skipping record. Her father the bookie, her husband the enforcer, her children the miracles, and her; the one who hurt everyone she loved.

Hatter woke from his dream with a jerk, finding himself suddenly sitting up. He gazed down at the sleeping form beside him. Once he thought Charlie mad for claiming to dabble in the black arts, but now he saw the old man had spoken the truth. It had been easier to convince Frankie to drink the truth serum than he had thought, and it worked better than he could ever dream it would. **[No pun intended]** He had what he wanted, he knew the most intimate details of her life, but he couldn't help but feel uneasy at the dirty underhanded trick he had played on her.

**Sorry I haven't updated in a long time. I've been sick, and now one of my friends is staying with us to get back on his feet, so its harder than ever to get on the computer. Here's the new chapter. Hope you like it. Might be a while for the next one. I need to kick this cold. Oh yeah so I realized something; the reason my stories look so short is because everyone else seems to make a new paragraph whenever someone else starts speaking. Does this make it easier to read? Is my story too scrunched up? Let me know.**


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